A Burst of Colour
by Arhtea
Summary: Daily Prophet competition: We're judging you. While most other children were born into a world full of bright and gorgeous colours, Bellatrix Black's world was all dull shades and shadows. Until the day when she saw pain etched into the face of a boy and heard the desperation in the screams being torn from his lips as he shook under the Cruciatus Curse.


Team: Pride of Portree.

Position: Beater 2

Written for the Daily Prophet Challenge "We're judging you". Every character in Harry Potter has a signature spell, or a memorable moment in which they use it. But why do they have such an affinity with that particular incantation? Your task this round is to write a character fic inspired by the use of each person's spell.

Prompt: Bellatrix – Crucio

Optional prompts:

4\. (emotion): desperation

14\. (quote): "To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering." – Nietzsche

Word count: 1088

 **A Burst of Colours**

While most other children were born into a world full of bright and gorgeous colours, Bellatrix Black's world was all dull shades and shadows. Both Narcissa and Andromeda saw beauty in, at least, some things; Bellatrix did not. She knew nothing of the wonders offered by the world she had been born into. That is, not until the day when she saw pain etched into the face of a boy and heard the desperation in the screams being torn from his lips as he shook under the Cruciatus Curse.

Andromeda Black had made the unfortunate mistake of not only courting a Mudblood, but also being indiscreet about it. Perhaps Cygnus Black could have forgiven a youthful, innocent dalliance with someone inferior if it was kept a secret. If it were merely a young girl rebelling before she moved on to marry a respectable Pureblood. But to carry on with a Mudblood in front of the whole school meant that no honorable Pureblooded man would want her.

Cygnus Black was not happy about that. He was furious. He was angry at his daughter but even more so at the young Mudblood boy who refused to stay in his place, who had ruined a Pureblood girl without caring what it would do to her. He was a Muggleborn; he had no business whispering sweet nothings into the ear of a Black. When Cygnus himself ran into the couple snogging in Hogsmeade, it was the last straw.

As angry as Cygnus Black was, he was also a great believer in teaching lessons. If he showed the boy the error of his ways; the penalty of touching what was far above him, then maybe he could be chased away. Perhaps then, Andromeda's reputation could still recover. There was also the matter of his two other daughters. They also needed to see that Mudblood suitors would not be tolerated.

It started with a lecture. He'd demanded that his daughters line up in the library in their summer home in Hogsmeade. Bellatrix didn't pay much attention. She would never ever let a Mudblood so much as touch her, never mind pursue a relationship. No, she found the Mudblood boy sitting on a chair, his hands bound, much more intriguing. The boy tried his best to look brave, but Bellatrix could see that fear in his eyes. She was drawn to that fear like a siren's song challenging her to terrify him further.

Bellatrix barely heard her father cast the spell. Suddenly, the boy's whole body began to shake violently. His face twisted and contorted as the pain pulsed through him. Andromeda sobbed softly and Narcissa turned her head away, but Bellatrix gazed on; mesmerized. The boy bit his lip as he tried to fight back his screams and blood trickled down one corner of his mouth.

That little red trail coloured Bellatrix's whole world. A scene that had been dull and lifeless, was suddenly as bright as the rainbow. It was an explosion of flavor in the mouth of a prisoner who'd been on a diet of stale bread and water. The feeling was so freeing, so exhilarating. She was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Unconsciously, she leaned towards it, trying to take in every scream, every grimace of pain. She would immortalize this pleasure in her memory.

From that day, Bellatrix knew that she needed to feel that rush of pleasure again. She had tasted the heady pleasure of the Cruciatus and it was impossible to go back. This time, however, she wanted to experience that exhilarating power firsthand, so that she could feel the spell as it left her wand. As soon as she had the chance, she found her very own little Mudblood. She didn't need to try very hard; the spell slipped easily off her lips as she thought about how much the dirty creature deserved it, and, in a flash of light, the screaming started. The spell was weak at first. But with each try it got better and better.

She had to Obliviate the Mudblood later; it seemed like such a shame. But even though the girl could not remember, Bellatrix did. She remembered every single devious and delicious detail, right down to the smell of fear radiating from the creature. Even as her head hit the pillow and she fell into a deep sleep, that act was all she could dream about.

Something dark was growing inside of her. On the outside, she was still a human being, but on the inside there was a hunger that could never be sated. If witnessing that delightful display of torture had been a burst of colour, then actually committing it was a cold glass of water in the desert. It was a drug and Bellatrix was hooked. From that day on, nothing else mattered. No boy could hope to catch her eye, no girlish fancy could ever delight her. The cravings could not be satisfied by anyone, she was sure.

Not until she met Lord Voldemort. He was special from the moment that Bellatrix was introduced to him by her father in a dark catacomb. Even though most things remained hidden in the shadows of the torchlight, Bellatrix could see, how the man's eyes shone in his handsome face, and she knew that she had found a kindred soul. Voldemort understood the beauty of death and destruction. Voldemort knew what happiness could be found in torturing the inferior rabble. From that day on, Bellatrix wanted nothing else but to belong to him and to help him achieve his goals.

She'd once read that to live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering. And Bellatrix truly took that passage to heart. It didn't mean that she had to be the one suffering, though. Instead, everyone who had the honour of ending up under her wand, would suffer so that Voldemort's cause could be furthered. They'd cry out in pain and with each scream, bring his plan closer to completion, while at the same time showering Bellatrix's world with light and colour.

Snapping out of her memories, Bellatrix raised her wand above Alice and Frank Longbottom. The couple paled as they exchanged a terrified look. And then, Bella cast the spell, smiling as she was once again filled with purpose. Between their cries of pain, they would eventually tell her where her master was, but in the meantime, their screams would echo like music in her ears.


End file.
